


There Be Humans

by julien (julie)



Series: Riviera-Green Dragon-Fly Wings [2]
Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe - Elf, Alternate Universe - Faerie, Alternate Universe - Wings, Episode: s02e04 Bird in the Hand, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1997-01-07
Updated: 1997-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21867676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/julien
Summary: Fraser is living a dull and lonely life in Chicago, anticipating another thirty years of work before he can consider his duty fulfilled. Only then can he retire and be with his elfin lover Raimondo. … When faced with his father’s murderer, however, Fraser realises he needs Raimondo’s help. Maybe the lovers needn’t wait so long to be reunited after all.
Relationships: Benton Fraser/Ray Vecchio
Series: Riviera-Green Dragon-Fly Wings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575418





	There Be Humans

**Author's Note:**

> **Notes:** This is based in the episode 204 BIRD IN THE HAND. 
> 
> **First published:** 7 January 1997 in my zine Pure Maple Syrup 4

# There Be Humans 

♦

‘Diefenbaker,’ said Fraser, pausing in order to address the wolf directly, ‘I really don’t know whether to hope you are actually deaf or not.’

Offering no reaction to this, Dief stared back at Fraser with those golden eyes.

The two of them were alone in Fraser’s bare apartment, after another long day’s meaningless work at the Consulate, and they were ignoring (with the ease of much practice) a loud argument in an apartment on the floor below. Such was their life here in Chicago.

Resuming the task of polishing his uniform boots, Fraser continued, ‘I know you certainly _were_ deaf, and I know the condition was a direct result of saving my life. I also know,’ Fraser said, bending down to reach for the finer brush, ‘you’ve never let me forget that noble act of yours – and nor should I. However,’ he added, speaking more directly to the animal, ‘there have been some indications of an improvement in your hearing capabilities.’

There was still no response from Diefenbaker, which perhaps indicated that the wolf couldn’t hear, or that he chose not to. _In Chicago parlance_ , Fraser reflected, _Dief plays his cards very close to his chest_.

‘It’s not that I’m accusing you of misleading me, old friend,’ Fraser said, in fonder tones, beginning the lengthy process of buffing the leather to the appropriate shine. He fell into an old rhythm of strong strokes, laying down a timeworn pattern. ‘It’s more that – Well, over the months I have appreciated being able to talk to you about my, er… liaison with Raimondo. It’s hardly something I care to share with anyone else. But I do wonder every now and then whether I hope you can understand me or not. Some of the details are not things I would appreciate you passing on to that pack of strays you run with. Nevertheless, I wish…’

Sitting there on the rug, Diefenbaker was watching Fraser carefully, as if paying close attention.

‘I wish you could confirm for me that he actually exists. Yes, I remember that you and he seemed perfectly able to communicate – but I was quite delirious at the time. It was all rather confusing. Raimondo couldn’t see Dad when he appeared, for example – does that mean _neither_ of them exist, or only one of them…? I could have imagined the whole lovely tryst, I could have imagined you talking to him. There is absolutely no proof that it actually happened.’

The wolf tilted his head back and yapped.

‘I don’t have that good an imagination?’ Fraser grimaced at this, not liking the criticism, but considering it anyway. ‘Well, I suppose you could be right about that, old friend. He was certainly… the most unusual of creatures. He quite took my breath away.’

Settling down again, it appeared that Diefenbaker was intending to sleep. Fraser talked on regardless, figuring that if the wolf _was_ deaf then Fraser wouldn’t be disturbing him.

‘I wonder if I seem like a dream to him now – if he remembers me at all. And why should he remember such a clumsy oaf? No doubt he has many other distractions.’ Having finished with one boot, Fraser picked up the other and began working over it. ‘Time worked differently there, Dief. Twenty years in this world could be twenty minutes to him, or perhaps twenty decades. He said I have beautiful eyes for a human, but why should he remember a pair of blue eyes for so long?’

Feeling utterly undisciplined, and chastising himself even as he did so, Fraser let out a sigh. Sometimes he suspected he would lose everything for the sake of duty and restraint. Not that he fulfilled his obligations with the expectation of recognition or reward – performing good deeds was enough in itself. There need be no other reason to explain his life and his choices. But, with no thought of gaining, to instead _lose_ those things vital to him…

Perhaps the problem was simply that Fraser was lonely. The prospect of retiring to spend his twilight years with the most bewitching of lovers (if indeed Raimondo still wanted him) – well, such a delightful prospect could not be said to make the intervening twenty or thirty years feel like they were speeding by.

‘At least _I’ll_ remember _him_ ,’ Fraser murmured to himself.

He had spent untold hours in the local library, exploring all the available myths and stories about elves and fairies and the worlds they inhabit, searching for the elements of truth amidst the tale-spinning, pondering the hints of the reality he had in fact experienced.

One thing he’d learned to be grateful for was that Raimondo hadn’t bedazzled Fraser into forgetting his adventure, as seemed to be the tradition. Fraser was glad of that, even though an absence of memories at times seemed to be a good definition of peace –

– for Fraser yearned fiercely for his elfin lover.

There, just the thought sent an uncontrollable shiver through him, caused an unpreventable stirring of his flesh. It could be quite embarrassing, depending on the timing and location, as if Fraser were suffering through his teenage years yet again.

Victoria Metcalfe had taught Fraser that such physical reactions were not to be relied upon as necessarily right or good or worthy. Just because the urgency of the instinct was gut-deep, that didn’t mean it would always be true to Fraser’s self. But Raimondo had taught him that such things weren’t necessarily wrong or bad or trivial, either.

And, whether sober or stirred, Fraser yearned for Raimondo.

In fact, lonely and in need, Fraser had begun to prepare himself for that distant day on which he would call the elfin thing to him. Fraser had so reveled in being a part of Raimondo, that he wanted Raimondo to become an intrinsic part of Fraser. The winged creature was already lodged securely in the human’s heart – was it _too_ prosaic for Fraser to want to welcome Raimondo into his body as well?

Dief appeared to be asleep, so Fraser put the boot and the brush down, and fetched the purchase he had made that day. Once he’d discarded the discreet wrappings, Fraser took the object over to his narrow bed, and sat there holding it in both hands. Indeed, he sat there holding a dildo. Contemplating the facsimile of a phallus.

Closing his eyes in order to concentrate, Fraser felt the thing, wrapped his palm and fingers around it, lifted it to his mouth, all the while comparing it to his memories of Raimondo. The object was not and could not be the same. For a start, it did not have the same elegant curve, the head of it did not have the desired flare. Nevertheless, Fraser had selected this particular dildo for its general size and shape, and it was close enough to Raimondo’s phallus to assist in Fraser’s purpose.

Now he thought about it, though, Fraser realized he wouldn’t want a perfect facsimile even if one were available. In many ways, while happy to prepare himself, he very much wanted to wait for Raimondo.

Fraser had no idea, of course, whether the elfin creature would wait for the human. They had made no promises in that regard, they hadn’t even mentioned the matter. While a certain faith might be implied by the nature of their declared feelings for each other, Fraser didn’t really expect faithfulness and restraint from a being who’d continually demonstrated a certain… freedom. A delightful freedom.

Meanwhile, a man had approached Fraser while he was making his purchase that afternoon. Fraser hadn’t even understood his offer at first. Once he finally did, Fraser could acknowledge to himself that the man was attractive, but… he wanted nothing more and nothing less than to wait for Raimondo. Even if the waiting lasted another thirty years.

A little moan escaped Fraser, much to his surprise. A moan of hunger and of protest. His gaze flew to Diefenbaker, but the wolf hadn’t stirred.

Calling on all his self-discipline, Fraser put the dildo down on his bed, walked over to the table, and returned to the task of polishing his boots. Surely the waiting would get easier with time. Surely the memories would become less vivid.

Another moan almost escaped him. For Fraser didn’t want to lose that vividness, he didn’t want to return so completely to what Raimondo characterized as the dull-world. It would appear, as much to his own surprise as anyone else’s, that Constable Benton Fraser was human after all.

 _So, what are you doing fretting over an **elf**?_ he asked himself severely.

Putting rather more verve into the brushstrokes than was strictly necessary, Fraser pondered the mistakes he had made in relation to Victoria Metcalfe. It seemed that when he loved, when he was at his most human, Fraser chose the most impossible partners available to him, and he behaved very badly. He was sorely tempted to turn away from the duty he owed. Had he not learned _anything_ by now?

Nary a sound escaped him. But there was something in his chest, some kind of constricted pressure, and if it had escaped it would have cried a puzzled and annoyed and desperate plea to the world.

♦

He couldn’t sleep.

He couldn’t sleep.

Eventually Fraser stripped off his long-johns, and he lay there naked in the dark, touching himself in a business-like manner, exciting himself. Diefenbaker was snoring, oblivious. Fraser frowned in determination.

Unbidden came memories of nut-brown skin warm against Fraser’s coolness. And laughter, long lazy delighted trills of song. And the utter indulgence of sensuality as if they needed no other reason to be, or no other reason to be together.

Dangerous, letting such memories run loose. He was hard now, effortlessly solidly almost painfully hard. Fraser widened his thighs, and with no preparation delved a finger inside of himself. Letting out a breath of surrender, Fraser systematically worked there until he was ready. He had pleasured himself this way before, on more occasions than he wished to contemplate right now, but it was no longer enough, and he was prepared to take the next step. He wanted to be ready for Raimondo…

There was some discomfort. Fraser took this slowly, gently easing the dildo further in, relaxing for two breaths, easing it back down a little, relaxing for another breath – and then pushing it further in again. With his left hand he maintained a steady beat of his phallus, wanting to remain excited through this process. One of the points of doing this, after all, was so he would be able to enjoy his lover taking possession of him in this way. It would take time, of course, to be entirely ready for the creature, but that wasn’t an issue – Fraser had decades. Long lonely decades.

Fraser sighed, and decided that was far enough for the night. Allowing his legs to stretch to lie full-length on the bed, Fraser let his body simply accommodate the intrusive bulk, the facsimile of his lover. Took another deep breath, relaxed… and efficiently brought himself off to a simple sweet orgasm. Wistful in the midst of sensation, Fraser whispered, ‘ _Raimondo_ …’ but he had the discipline not to repeat the name. It would be foolish to inadvertently summon the beautiful winged thing.

Another self-indulgent sigh as he carefully removed the dildo, and put it down on the floor. Fraser turned away, not wanting to bother about the damned thing right now, not wanting to clean it or think about it. He gathered a pillow into his arms, and hugged it disconsolately. Considered throwing something at Dief to make him quit snoring.

But then at last Fraser let sleep take him away into dreams he promised himself he’d never recall.

♦

Constable Benton Fraser sat there motionless, tied fast to a chair. He had made every effort to undo the knots or to work himself free, but it had been fruitless. After all, Gerard had been a Mountie, and he retained many of his old skills as well as an uncomfortably-detailed knowledge of the Fraser men.

There was no point in struggling.

The warehouse loomed empty around him. Fraser could hear the faint sounds of an argument being conducted on another floor, though he couldn’t make out any words. He didn’t really need to, however, in order to understand what was going on. Gerard was probably pleading for his life – while ATF Special Agent McFadden was no doubt wondering whether he could simply kill both Gerard and Fraser in cold blood, in the process making it appear as if the two men had managed to murder each other.

Fraser had never been in the habit of considering any situation as hopeless. But he had to admit to himself that right now he was bereft of ideas. If McFadden walked in with the intention of shooting him, there would be little Fraser could do about it.

‘There’s no shame in calling for help, son,’ Sergeant Robert Fraser declared.

Benton turned his head to see his father’s ghost walking around from behind him. ‘Hello, Dad. I hope you’re not here to collect me.’

‘Call out. Maybe someone will hear.’

‘No one will hear – at least, no one who has my interests at heart.’ Benton considered his father for a moment. ‘And what kind of advice is that, anyway? _You_ never asked for help, not once in your entire life. Not even from me. Not even when you knew that Gerard would betray you.’

Robert seemed to wonder why this was at all remarkable. ‘A man asking his son for help?’ he grumbled. ‘It wouldn’t be an easy thing to do. Like admitting I was old.’

‘Or human,’ Benton observed. ‘You know, you were so afraid to open up to me that you actually chose to be killed rather than express your feelings.’

‘That’s ridiculous!’

‘But it’s what happened, isn’t it?’ And then Benton chuckled as he realized that was one pattern he could break. ‘I’m human, Dad. And I know someone who can help me.’

‘Oh, no…’

‘Well, can _you_ untie me?’

The ghost lifted an insubstantial hand, and solemnly contemplated it. ‘I only wish I could, son.’

Benton Fraser was grinning. He didn’t let himself doubt. It wasn’t as if this were the first time he’d had an excuse to do this, and this time it was definitely more of a reason than an excuse. He tilted his head back. ‘Raimondo!’ he called, though not so loudly as to alert McFadden and Gerard.

‘Come on, Benton – think! There must be other options.’

‘Raimondo!’

‘Elves don’t even exist.’

‘Raimondo!’

A maddened exhilarated flutter of wings, a lean naked nut-brown body hovering – and then the creature darting in close to rain kisses all over the human’s up‑turned face. ‘Benton Fraser!’

There was a disgruntled and disgusted sound from the ghost, who then apparently disappeared. Fraser found that he couldn’t really care very much right now.

‘Oh, Benton Fraser…’ Punctuating every word with more kisses. ‘It’s been an _ever_ -so-long-time…’

‘You remember me,’ Fraser happily murmured, unable to quit smiling under the onslaught.

‘Of course I do, silly human. Put your arms around me.’

‘I can’t, dearest.’

‘Yes, you can, I know you know _all_ about how. Oh, I’ve been wanting to be held by you, I’ve spent many-great-whiles thinking of nothing else…’ Eventually the elfin creature picked up on the fact that their reunion wasn’t proceeding quite as planned. Raimondo drew back a little, just far enough so that they could focus on each other’s face. ‘Benton Fraser,’ he said suspiciously, ‘ _where_ are your arms?’

‘They are tied to the chair behind me.’

Raimondo hovered a little higher so that he could peer over Fraser’s shoulder. This also enabled him to press most of his lower torso up against Fraser’s chest, which was a terribly pleasant diversion. ‘Ah, so they are. What an odd kind of game to be playing when you finally call me.’

‘It’s not a game, dearheart.’ Fraser was grinning like a fool – and drinking in the sight of those woodland eyes, that bold nose, the charcoal and silver hair cropped close to the delicate skull. ‘You are beautiful,’ he murmured devotedly.

‘Fortunately so – for you had to have _some_ reason to remember me…’ The elfin thing was apparently a little put out, though Fraser wasn’t quite sure what about.

‘Oh, I remembered you for many many reasons.’ Fraser closed his eyes for a moment, needing to concentrate on his predicament. Though of course that didn’t prevent him inhaling Raimondo’s sweet and earthy scent. ‘I remembered how brave you were, and how generous, and how well you cared for me,’ Fraser said, and then he looked at Raimondo. ‘Now I am in trouble again, my friend, and I need your help. That is why I called you.’

The creature’s face grew dark. ‘You haven’t finished your duty yet? You’re not coming home with me forever?’

‘No. No, I can’t leave here yet.’

Raimondo withdrew to hover a few meters away, arms folded across his chest. It seemed he was too seriously displeased to even bother pouting.

‘Will you help me anyway?’

‘Oh, _what_ trouble?’ The creature gave a gusty sigh. ‘I don’t see any danger.’

‘The men who tied me up intend to kill me. They intend to stop me forever.’

‘And why call _me_ , Benton Fraser? I’m not a _do_ ‑er, I’m a _be_ ‑er.’

The last remnants of Fraser’s smile fell away. ‘I’m sorry, I thought – That is, I assumed you would want to help save my life. I couldn’t think of any other way to escape the situation.’

‘Well, of course I will save your life, now that I am here,’ the creature airily declared, as if it was of little consequence. ‘How is it that I can help?’

‘If you could untie one of my hands, at least, I believe I can deal with the other knots on my own…’

The elfin thing flew in a large lazy circle around Fraser, and then approached to settle behind him. While those lovely long fingers worked clumsily at the ropes – far less skilled than when dealing with Fraser’s flesh – Raimondo began muttering, ‘It’s all very well for you, isn’t it? You won’t let me bedazzle you into _be_ ing in my world, but on the slightest whim you call me and want me to _do_ things in yours…’

‘Oh, dearheart,’ Fraser replied, stricken with remorse, ‘it wasn’t a whim. I was very afraid, and I thought of you.’

‘Did you never think of me while feeling any other things?’

‘Oh, yes. I have been so lonely without you.’ He whispered, ‘So hungry and so thirsty.’ Fraser’s right hand was free now – he grasped one of Raimondo’s hands before he could flit away. ‘Forgive me.’

Still holding hands, the elfin thing hovered around in front of Fraser, and then settled gracefully to sit on Fraser’s lap, though his weight was still mostly supported by those enormous wings humming to either side of him.

‘Forgive me,’ Fraser repeated in a whisper.

And sunshine broke across that mutable face. ‘Well, of course I forgive you, silly man. You remembered me, you called me, you love me, yes?’

‘Oh, _yes_.’ In as heartfelt a tone as a Mountie and a Fraser man could possibly be capable of.

‘How is it I should help you now?’

Fraser really needed to alert the authorities, though he didn’t want to leave this place and let Gerard or McFadden slip away. ‘Raimondo, could you go and find me a cellular phone? It’s a small black mechanical device that people hold to their ears and mouths, and talk into. And remember who you borrowed it from, because we will need to return it as soon as possible.’

The winged creature pressed an emphatic kiss to Fraser’s mouth – and then in, as they say, the twinkle of an eye, Raimondo flew off through a broken skylight.

Fraser leaned down to untie his right foot, and then his left. He was crouching beside the chair loosing his left hand when his friend returned. ‘That was quick,’ Fraser commented.

‘Yes.’ Raimondo was obviously feeling _very_ pleased with himself. ‘Here you are!’

As the elf glided down to Fraser’s level, the human stood up, turned around. And held back a delighted laugh.

For Raimondo was proudly offering him a portable radio / cassette player. An object known in Chicago parlance as a ghetto blaster, and obviously immediately recognizable as a small black mechanical device.

‘Thank you, Raimondo,’ Fraser said with genuine gratitude, smiling fondly at the creature. ‘You are very clever to have found me this.’

Raimondo made a decent pretense of shrugging this off, given that he was actually basking in the praise. ‘You may set me harder tasks than that, Benton Fraser.’

‘I will, and I know you’ll do very well. Thank you.’

‘What do you do with it, this cellular phone thing?’

‘Well…’ Fraser let a heartbeat slip by. ‘Why don’t we just leave it here for now? I need to go and listen to the men who tied me up, I need to know what their plans are.’

‘Then I will accompany you,’ Raimondo regally declared, as if he was doing Fraser a great favor. Which, of course, he was.

The two of them crept downstairs to the second floor, heading towards the voices that still argued. Both Fraser himself and Gerard, Fraser reflected, were lucky that McFadden hadn’t more resolve than this, or they’d be dead by now.

Actually, Fraser was the one who crept carefully downstairs – while Raimondo hovered over him in plain view, darting off every now and then to examine whatever caught his fancy. ‘We mustn’t let them see us,’ Fraser reminded the elfin creature. ‘At least not yet.’

‘They won’t see me,’ Raimondo told him. ‘I’m not really a part of your quick-world, so no one will perceive me unless I want them to.’ He fluttered down to press a kiss to Fraser’s forehead. ‘Your wolf-friend can always see me, of course. And I remember that once you heard me laughing, when you were blinded and walking into trees.’

‘So I did.’

Having reached the entrance to the room where Gerard and McFadden were, Fraser dropped to his knees and worked his way through the shadows to the shelter of a pile of wooden packing crates. He peered over the top to see the other two men.

‘But I have a different kind of buyer now,’ McFadden was explaining in exasperation. ‘I have a different border to cross. I don’t need the assistance of a Mountie.’

‘You’re underestimating how useful I can be to you.’

‘I don’t think so, Gerard.’

‘I’ve got nothing to lose anymore. Don’t discount what a man in that position is capable of doing.’

Which was when, much to Fraser’s surprise, another elfin thing popped in from else-where. ‘McFadden,’ the creature said. ‘What’s going on?’

Gerard had cried out and stepped back, pale and shocked.

At the same time, Raimondo breathed out a startled, ‘Ai!’ and abruptly crumpled out of sight, sprawling to the floor beside Fraser.

Fraser found that he was gaping, and closed his mouth. He really hadn’t anticipated witnessing any other encounters between humans and elves, though now he thought about it he wondered why not – he’d already decided his own contact with Raimondo could not be unique.

The creature hovered there, impatiently conversing with McFadden as if they knew each other well. Like Raimondo, this being with dragon-fly wings was breathtakingly attractive, though there the resemblance ended. This elfin thing was slightly smaller in stature, his face handsome and his features neat. And he wasn’t naked – he wore a black silk shirt, backless to allow for his wings, and snug pants of the same material – though his feet were bare. There was a pale golden glow to his skin, and his wings were a dark rich brown.

Raimondo regained Fraser’s attention by prodding his arm with a demanding finger. ‘Stop staring, Benton Fraser!’ the elfin thing whispered with a touch of venom. ‘You don’t want him – he’s trouble!’

Fraser sank down to his hands and knees so that he and Raimondo could safely communicate behind the crates. ‘He’s an acquaintance of yours?’

‘Yeah, you could say we’re acquainted.’ Raimondo grimaced – the bitterest expression that Fraser had ever seen on his lover’s face. ‘His name’s Francis. He was banished from my home. And now he must be up to mischief here. We are in your Chicago, aren’t we?’

‘Yes.’ Considering this for a moment, Fraser realized that he needed far more information before he could usefully take any action. ‘We’d better withdraw,’ he decided.

Raimondo nodded, obviously shaken by this development. And then the winged thing crawled along the floor behind the human, apparently unable to prevent one of his own kind perceiving him in the quick-world.

‘I’m afraid that I’m unsure how to proceed from here,’ Fraser confessed when the two of them were out of the conspirators’ hearing. The Mountie led the way back upstairs to where he’d been held captive. ‘If your fellow Francis is dealing with McFadden –’

‘He is not my fellow,’ Raimondo said, trailing along despondently no more than a few inches from the floor.

Fraser looked at him for a moment. Eventually he asked, ‘What are you exactly? An elf?’

‘Close enough.’

‘But what _are_ you?’

‘Does it matter?’ Raimondo asked sullenly. ‘Elf will do.’

‘Well, I suspect that I can’t arrest an elf.’ Fraser sighed. ‘You say that Francis is trouble?’

‘Yes. He is slippery-clever and he’s nasty and he _does_ things – and you don’t want him, Benton Fraser.’

‘No, I don’t,’ Fraser absently agreed, still mulling over just what to do next. If McFadden’s different border led from this world to Raimondo’s else-where, then nothing was as it seemed…

‘Ah, you do,’ Raimondo was saying in a disgusted tone. ‘I saw how you were looking at him, Benton Fraser. He made you hungry. You wanted to get your mouth on him, just like you got your mouth on me.’

Hearing this, Fraser couldn’t help but let a smile curl his lips. He let himself be distracted from business for a few precious moments. ‘Are you jealous, my friend? But tell me – how can a mere mortal like me fail to be impressed by an elf? You are all so beautiful…’

This particular elf was sulking. ‘ _Some_ are more beautiful than others.’

‘Yes, dearheart, and in my experience you are unsurpassed.’ Fraser walked back to where his lover hovered, and slipped a hand into his. ‘I still cannot imagine anything half so beautiful as you, even after seeing another elf.’

Eventually Raimondo quirked him a reluctant grin. ‘Silly human. I _know_ Francis is more handsome than I. And you were admiring him.’

‘Yes, I was. But you are the only being, elf or human, who I want to… touch, or be with, or love.’

Raimondo slipped down into Fraser’s embrace, the human’s arms encompassing that narrow waist as the elf initiated a deep kiss full of promise.

‘It’s so good to have you with me again,’ Fraser murmured once the kiss was done. Raimondo’s body was pressed up hard against his, the elf’s strong arms were wound tightly around Fraser’s shoulders – and Fraser found one of his own hands drifting lower, wanting to explore again the delightful curves of that peach-shaped rear. However, this was not the time or the place for such hungering distractions. ‘We need to get away from here,’ Fraser continued. ‘We are not safe, and I need to plan my – _our_ next move.’

‘All right…’ Raimondo said, reluctantly letting Fraser go. ‘What do we do?’

Fraser smiled at him. ‘I think we might use the, er, cellular phone as a diversion.’

Raimondo seemed inordinately pleased with this plan to which he had contributed so significantly. Fraser reconnoitered an escape route, and then turned the ghetto blaster on. Discordant modern music, heavy on the bass, blared from the speakers at either end of the device. Fraser beckoned to the elf, and quickly made his way down another set of stairs at the back of the building.

The unexpected music must have inspired the others to also make a break for freedom, rather than investigate. Having gotten outside, Fraser peered around the corner of the building, endeavoring to ascertain whether it was safe to proceed – just in time to see Gerard, who’d been hanging from a window in a covered cross-walk, lose his grip and fall. To compound the man’s problem, McFadden, driving away at a dangerous speed, hit Gerard on his way down.

The man who’d arranged the murder of Robert Fraser was now tossed against the wall by the force of the impact, and slumped to the ground. McFadden tore off with a screech of tires, leaving his erstwhile colleague for dead.

Fraser ran to Gerard, and felt for a pulse at his throat – there was one, but it was uncertain and thin. Movement caught his eye, and Benton looked up to see his father at the window Gerard had fallen from. ‘What did you do?’ Benton asked.

‘Nothing!’ Robert defensively replied. ‘I offered to give him a hand.’

‘You don’t have a hand,’ Benton told him severely, unimpressed even though he understood his father’s impulse. ‘I need to get him to a hospital…’

‘That man might be stopping forever,’ Raimondo warned Fraser, hovering just overhead, all in a flutter.

‘Oh, _elves_ ,’ Robert Fraser muttered darkly, before walking away from the window.

Fraser stood, and looked directly up at Raimondo. ‘I need you to do something important for me, dearheart, but only if you feel it’s wise.’

‘What, Benton Fraser?’

‘Will you go else-where for me now, and see if you can discover anything about what Francis is doing? I need to know more about what’s going on.’

The elf was looking at Fraser with a sulky kind of suspicion on his mutable face.

‘But only,’ Fraser continued, ‘if you’ll promise me two things.’

‘What?’

‘First you must promise me that you’ll be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt, and Francis may well be dangerous.’

‘Human, I _know_ he’s dangerous. What is the other promise?’

‘Promise me you’ll come back to me, dearest. I know that time passes at different rates in your world and in mine, but could you try to come back to me tonight? I don’t want to be without you for too long.’

The sulkiness became a radiant smile. ‘Ah, Benton Fraser, you romantic creature you.’ And Raimondo darted low to press a kiss to Fraser’s lips.

Behind Fraser, Gerard let out a shaky moan of protest.

‘Go, then,’ said Fraser to his lover, ‘and be sure to come safely back to me.’ He watched as Raimondo lifted higher against the dark night sky, then spun around and disappeared. For a moment Fraser wondered at how foolish he might have been – what if Raimondo was injured and couldn’t return, or if he became distracted and forgot? How long would it be until Fraser allowed himself to call on the creature again?

Another moan reminded Fraser that there was someone else he was currently responsible for. He turned back to Gerard, and lifted the man up over his shoulder as smoothly as he could. Gerard was badly hurt, obviously – and he was also in shock, muttering and complaining about ghosts and about men with wings.

‘It’s all right,’ Fraser said to his burden. ‘I’ll get you to a hospital.’ The man wouldn’t settle, though, so as Fraser reached the street he tried reassuring him – ‘You’re not hallucinating. You saw what you saw.’

But apparently this didn’t help. Fraser sighed, and headed down the road.

♦

Once Gerard was being taken care of, and without letting the man out of his sight, Fraser used the phone at the nurses’ station to call Lieutenant Welsh at the twenty-seventh precinct. The Lieutenant promised to send a uniformed officer to the hospital immediately to ensure that Gerard remained in custody. Without mentioning either Raimondo or Francis, Fraser went on to tell Welsh what he’d discovered about McFadden. The two law enforcement officers agreed that the rogue ATF Agent would be difficult to track down. Welsh said he’d put two Detectives onto it, and Fraser undertook to assist the hunt on the following morning.

It was quite late. The doctor’s prognosis for Gerard was good. So, once the police officer arrived, Fraser was happy enough to declare an end to the day. He walked slowly back home to his apartment, endeavoring not to think of the elf, or to wonder what Raimondo was doing and whether he was safe.

The place seemed empty. His home, despite Diefenbaker stirring from sleep to greet him, seemed barren and bare and colorless. ‘Hello, old friend,’ said Fraser. ‘I believe I may have made a mistake.’

The wolf growled a low query.

‘I called Raimondo to me, to help me in a rather difficult situation, but then I sent him back. I asked him to return – however…’ How long would it be? Fraser should have asked whether Raimondo could tell him how long it had been else-where since Fraser’s sojourn there – he’d be better able to judge now. When Fraser had been lost in the woods, Raimondo had once gone home for what he said was a moment, but had been absent for over an hour from Fraser’s point of view. Fraser had in turn spent a _very_ long afternoon and evening there, and then discovered that six weeks had passed in the human world. Judging from those experiences, if the elf took a few hours to investigate Francis, or track him down, that could mean Raimondo wouldn’t return for days or even weeks.

Fraser slowly undressed. The wolf watched him for a while, apparently unsurprised and unimpressed by Fraser’s mistake, but then Dief settled back to sleep. Self-indulgent enough to feel tired and a little unhappy, Fraser lay back on his bed, naked. Wistful – for it had been so good to see Raimondo again, so reassuring and so flattering to discover that the elf’s attraction to this particular human had not diminished. The connection of love and friendship was obviously still there.

But regaining and then losing his lover on top of all the day’s troublesome dealings with his father’s murderer – Benton Fraser felt emotionally exhausted. He lay there, too tired to even wish for sleep. It would be pointless to decide to stay awake, waiting for Raimondo – and yet Fraser’s instinct was to do so.

He forced himself to close his eyes. The night slid by in restless dreams of loss.

In the darkness before dawn, a change or a movement of the air woke him again.

‘This is not a nice place, Benton Fraser,’ Raimondo disconsolately announced.

Fraser sat up on the edge of his bed to see the elf hovering there, his wings and his presence filling the apartment with life. Feeling lost for appropriate words, Fraser made do with, ‘You came back.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Raimondo did not seem happy – in fact, he was dispirited enough not to snap his reply, or to add _silly human_.

Fraser stood, and walked the few steps to his lover. He slipped a hand into Raimondo’s. And the Mountie found that he was more interested in the elf’s well-being than in the case they were both now involved in. Very undisciplined. ‘Are you all right, dearest?’ He lifted his free hand to that unusual face, ran the back of his fingers down one temple.

‘I do not like this place, I do not like your Chicago.’

‘It’s certainly not ideal for a beautiful creature like you.’

Raimondo quirked a look at the human. ‘You are full of flattery.’

‘You inspire me.’

A reluctant smile tugged at the elf’s mouth. ‘Silly man,’ he murmured. ‘You won’t trap me with honey-words. You will keep me with what’s in your heart.’

Fraser couldn’t help but grin. He should have known that his own version of bedazzling Raimondo – appealing to the elf’s harmless and wholly justifiable vanity – would be too obvious a strategy. ‘You enchant me,’ Fraser said. ‘Can I not attempt to enchant you, too?’

‘Benton Fraser, you are _such_ a romantic.’

‘Ah, you found me out.’ There had only been one other person to discover that fact, and she had used it mercilessly against him. Fraser whispered, ‘Don’t tell anyone, dearheart. That’s our secret.’

Raimondo blessed Fraser’s face with a caress. ‘There is _one_ part of Chicago that I like…’

‘Oh…?’ Fraser said.

Raimondo was hovering closer – Fraser stepped back, drawing the elf towards his narrow lonely bed. ‘Oh… Benton Fraser.’

And Fraser was tumbling back along the bed, his arms full of passionate elf, the air around them stirred by Raimondo’s maddened wings, their mouths hungry devouring and their hands roaming clutching.

It could have all been over like that, skin against skin, but Fraser wanted more. ‘Become part of me, Raimondo,’ he murmured, fraught, into an ear. He lifted a hand to wrap around the elf’s long elegant throat, palm and fingers enjoying the obvious echo in shape of the phallus that was even now pressing hard against his own. ‘Come unto me, enter into me…’

A groan reverberated through Raimondo. ‘Will I hurt you, human?’

‘Yes. No. I don’t care. I want you to be inside of me.’

It was apparent that Raimondo wanted that, too.

Even in the immediacy of the moment, Fraser reflected on how slowly they had approached love-making during their else-where tryst. Now the need was too much for anything but mutual demand and surrender. Perhaps the elf had been lonely, too.

Obedient to the urgings of his own body as well as Raimondo’s, Fraser lifted his legs and hooked them around Raimondo’s waist. Found, through the trial and error of flexing and tilting, a suitable position. With no further ado, the elf was pressing against him, awakening sensitivities, forcing himself inside.

Fraser groaned, head pushing back hard against the pillow. Dealing with conflicting ideas of which way to arch his back, letting this creature possess him inch by slow solid relentless inch.

Raimondo was gasping, beautiful little musical pants of pleasure, already lost in his own sensations.

Finally he was in to the hilt – Fraser only knowing this by the breathless pause, by Raimondo now leaning back and pushing forward to complete the matter. The elf’s hands grasped Fraser’s hips, the wings bearing all Raimondo’s weight rather than his arms – and the thrusting began.

Fraser canted his lower torso, trying to find the best angle, opening himself as well as he was able. His legs encircling, hanging on firmly to Raimondo’s waist – as the wings thrummed so strongly that they threatened to carry the pair of bound-together creatures up into the air. And to think, it had only been a night or two ago that Fraser had lain here trying to prepare himself for this very occurrence. Fraser’s hands clutched at the sheets, and he wondered vaguely if he might tear them. The intrusive bulk of his lover was too much to sanely bear, and so welcome that Fraser feared he might weep in relief.

‘Benton Fraser!’

Ah, so the elf wasn’t as lost to him as Fraser had suspected. ‘Raimondo…’

‘Do – I – hurt – you?’ The words panted out.

‘You complete me.’

A helpless groan.

‘You bring your beauty into me, Raimondo…’

A frown knotted that brow, the eyelids drooped closed, the lips parted – and with a cry the elf surrendered to completion.

‘Beautiful…’ Fraser murmured, gathering the falling body into his arms, letting the elf disengage from him. Easing his back into a more comfortable position. Raimondo’s softened genitals were damp against his own hardness.

The elf sprawled on top of the human, head tucking down against Fraser’s shoulder. Fraser’s thighs were still cradling those narrow hips. The wings had stilled, fallen to lie on either side – one tip was propped on the floor, and the other had caught on the far window ledge. Even this inelegant arrangement could not detract from the elf’s beauty.

‘And you?’ Raimondo murmured.

‘May I…?’ But Fraser had already planted his feet more solidly on the bed. His lover slipped down a little lower – and Fraser was pushing his own hard need up against that firm stomach, his hands at last exploring that delicately-curved rear. Raimondo did nothing more than tongue lazy cool patterns on Fraser’s chest. Within moments, sweetness steeped through him, pulsed out of him. A moan escaped his mouth.

They lay together like that for a while, cast there abandoned by pleasure.

Dawn began bringing shabbiness to everything but the elf, and the emotional and physical residuals of what they had shared. Raimondo drifted into restful sleep. He was quite light, noticeably less heavy than a human of similar stature would have been – he barely affected Fraser’s breathing. Fraser smiled a little, and followed his lover into the realm of dreams.

♦

When Fraser awoke it was to see Raimondo sitting cross-legged on the foot of his bed, back to Fraser and wings gently fluttering to either side. The elf was singing to Diefenbaker, while the wolf sat there, listening alertly to the high unearthly song. The human couldn’t make out a word of it, though the pure sound was delightful.

Slowly, Fraser got up onto his knees, and leaned in to press kisses across his lover’s nape, then shifted lower to explore with tongue-tip the join of wings to shoulder-blades. The song segued into indulgent appreciation, the tune deepening… Dief growled once, and trotted off to his water bowl.

‘Ai, Benton Fraser,’ the elf eventually commented, ‘you are quite something.’ Apparently he felt impelled to add, ‘For a human.’

‘Thank you,’ Fraser murmured.

Raimondo let out a sad sigh. ‘And what do we _do_ today?’

‘We begin with this…’

Again, the urgency, the quick-world rush to blind completion. Fraser found a moment in which to fear that he couldn’t possibly maintain Raimondo’s interest this way – but for now he supposed that really didn’t signify. They were both in dire need of this expression of and answer to their mutual passion.

Fraser tugged the elf to his feet, pushed him across to the far wall, and within moments was possessing the creature. Raimondo was reveling in it, letting his head fall back to tuck in beside Fraser’s in a cheek-to-cheek caress, singing now in abandoned tones. The wings thrummed so hard that they sent shivers through the elf’s body and so into Fraser’s, driving the human to the edge in less time than he could have believed possible. The elf had no trouble staying with his harsh arrhythmic thrusts, so Fraser dropped both hands to Raimondo’s lovely phallus, his neat testes – and felt the wings’ vibrations even there. His hands provided a hard focus for it, intensifying the effects, and his own throat echoed the hum – and Raimondo came, splashing pearly elfin seed against the wall, Fraser soon matching him in fraught sensation.

‘ _Ai_ …’ muttered the elf, overcome.

He crumpled to the floor, and Fraser followed him down, comforting his lover as best he could in a heavy tangle of limbs and trembling wings. ‘I love you,’ Fraser said – or at least he shaped the words in his mouth. Such a statement was surely irrelevant when his whole body, mind and soul were here wrapped up around the being he was devoted to. His abundant joy ached through him so remorselessly that it was barely distinguishable from his yearning sadness.

‘Oh my, Benton Fraser,’ Raimondo at last commented in mock-weary tones, ‘and whatever do we do next…?’

By this time Fraser had managed to relocate his equilibrium. ‘Breakfast,’ Fraser cheerily announced, standing up and hauling the elf up with him. After an all-over shake or two, Raimondo was hovering in the air, apparently ready to face the day. Fraser, covering himself in his long-johns, smiled at his lover. ‘Would you care for something to eat?’

The mutable face scrunched up in anticipated disgust. ‘Do you have fruit?’

‘Yes, of course.’ Fraser fetched his fruit bowl, then waited while those long fine fingers picked fussily through his offerings. At last a ripe mango was selected. Meanwhile, Diefenbaker was tucking into his food with no hint of such fastidiousness. As Fraser sat down at the table with his own bowl of muesli, he watched as Raimondo settled on the bed, daintily peeled the fruit and then ate it with some enjoyment. It was very tempting to just walk over there and lick the juice from the elf’s chin. ‘Is that good?’ Fraser asked.

‘Oh, it is dull-world food, but it will suffice.’

Fraser nodded at this grudging acceptance. ‘Today will be rather busy. Is it asking too much for you to accompany me?’

‘Yes, but I will anyway.’

‘Thank you.’

‘What are we doing?’

‘There are people I need to talk to, and someone I need to find.’ Fraser mused over the situation, giving it serious thought for the first time in some hours now that the distractions were less… urgent. ‘McFadden is on the run, perhaps with other colleagues, though he seems to prefer operating as a loner. He will either be a long way from here by now, or he will have stayed in Chicago with the intention of killing me, Gerard and Lloyd Nash –’

‘He still wants to stop you forever?’ Raimondo asked with some alarm. ‘Though you are no longer tied to his chair?’

Fraser suppressed a smile of enjoyment at the elf’s odd perspective. ‘Yes, my dear. We are the only three direct witnesses to the man’s nefarious dealings. From what I understand of him, he will have chosen to stay with the aim of tidying us out of the way. I need to find McFadden and bring him to justice.’

‘Is that your duty, Benton Fraser?’

‘Yes,’ Fraser replied simply, though he knew that _duty_ was the heaviest of words between him and Raimondo. He continued, ‘I’m not at all sure what to do about Francis. Did you manage to find him else-where last night? I’m sorry I haven’t asked before now.’

The elf quirked him a smile. ‘You had more important things to be doing with your mouth. But, no, I didn’t see Francis, I couldn’t sense him nearby.’ The happy expression fell away. ‘It is not nice here, in your world nor in mine. I did not want to stay long, I did not want to be there.’ Raimondo’s gaze slid away from the human’s. ‘I didn’t try very hard to do as you asked, Benton Fraser, I wanted to be here instead.’

‘That’s all right, my friend,’ Fraser said. For a wild moment he felt as if he was comprised of nothing but melting love and forgiveness. He didn’t dare go near the elf for fear of wrapping the creature up in his arms and surrendering utterly to sensation. ‘You have been doing your best to help me, and I appreciate it more than you can know.’

The hazel eyes sought Fraser’s gaze again, reluctant at first, and then directly once Raimondo saw that the human wasn’t disappointed in him. ‘I will help you today,’ the elf declared.

‘Thank you kindly.’ Fraser ventured, ‘How well do you know Francis?’

‘Far too well.’

‘He is quite the unknown quantity to me, so you can certainly help me there. Tell me, if Francis has been doing business with McFadden, can we assume that Francis would have an interest in continuing to do so?’

Raimondo shrugged. ‘Yes. I don’t know what he is gaining from the matter, but I think gaining has become important to him.’

‘We can’t arrest him in this world… I assume he’s breaking rules in your world?’

A gusty sigh. ‘Yes. A few, obviously, though so am I. Some other rules, maybe – if we find out what he’s doing.’

‘And your people, your elders – I take it they would prefer Francis not to deal again with McFadden or anyone else?’

But Raimondo had retreated into mulling over something that troubled him, and he did not answer.

Leaving him be for now, Fraser finished his breakfast, and dressed in his brown uniform. When he was ready, Fraser walked over to Raimondo and was presented with a mango stone picked absolutely clean. ‘Shall we go…?’ the Mountie asked both the elf and the wolf. They both followed him with alacrity. With companions such as these, Fraser reflected, he was sure to succeed.

♦

Lloyd Nash did not require Fraser’s warning – he already knew that he was in danger. ‘I’m only surprised that you and the other Mountie are still alive,’ Nash commented. He was sitting behind his desk, every inch the seasoned businessman. ‘Agent McFadden hasn’t restrained himself when other men were in his sights. Perhaps he feels a lingering sense of fealty with law enforcement officers.’

‘That seems unlikely at this stage,’ Fraser replied. He found himself showing this criminal the respect of standing at ease before the man’s desk, but did not bother relaxing his stance.

After darting off for a moment, apparently indulging his curiosity, Raimondo returned to hover up in the corner behind Fraser’s left shoulder.

The Mountie asked, ‘Do you have any idea where McFadden might be hiding? I’m assuming he has remained in Chicago.’

‘It’s a fair assumption.’ Nash nodded, steepling his fingers, apparently satisfied by an understanding of or with Fraser. ‘I’ll have my people look for him. Yours are also looking, of course…?’

‘Yes.’ Which meant that both sides of the law were seeking McFadden’s whereabouts. The man would have few places he could consider safe. Fraser left a meaningful pause before saying, ‘May I ask if you’ve noticed anything unusual about your latest dealings with McFadden?’

A silence stretched. Nash was looking off to one side, contemplative. And then it seemed as if he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of one eye. Nash frowned.

Fraser carefully didn’t glance in Raimondo’s direction. ‘I suspect that recent shipments haven’t been crossing the border to Canada,’ Fraser announced, wanting to regain Nash’s attention.

Raimondo hovered down to settle behind Fraser, as if hiding – although that might do nothing more than make Fraser appear to have wings, which wouldn’t exactly assist the situation. Fraser managed not to react as the elf’s arms entwined his waist.

‘There _was_ something odd,’ Nash said at last, looking directly at Fraser. ‘The payment was made in gold.’

‘Gold ingots?’

‘No. Nuggets. Gold nuggets, with the soil still clinging, as if someone had simply picked them up off the ground.’

‘Ah. And I take it you were used to dealing in cash.’

Nash allowed Fraser to make this assumption. ‘I hope you get your man, Constable,’ he said, drawing the conversation to a close.

‘Thank you kindly,’ Fraser replied. And he saw himself off the premises, the elf drifting along behind with one hand hooked in Fraser’s belt. ‘Raimondo,’ the human said once they were out of hearing distance, ‘would Francis have access to gold nuggets in your world?’

‘I don’t know. Show me what they are.’

Fraser smiled a little. ‘All right, dearest. But not just yet…’

♦

The Mountie, the elf and the wolf headed for the warehouse where Fraser had taken Gerard the previous night. Fraser and Dief scouted around for clues to McFadden’s whereabouts, with little success – all that Fraser was able to ascertain was the brand of tires on the ATF Agent’s car, for he had left a fair amount of rubber behind in his precipitous departure.

Giving up on that for now, Fraser retrieved the ghetto blaster. It had been playing music all night, and the batteries’ power was now faltering, but otherwise the device was unharmed. The Mountie felt the twinge of a guilty conscience for borrowing the thing without first securing the owner’s permission – somehow he doubted that Raimondo had observed any social niceties when taking it, and Fraser now found himself wondering at his own actions.

‘Can you take me to the person you borrowed this from?’ Fraser asked the elf.

‘Of course.’ Raimondo proudly led them out of the warehouse and off down the street.

Within moments, Fraser and Diefenbaker were approaching a group of young men, most of African-American heritage and all wearing the local gang colors. ‘Which of these…?’ Fraser muttered _sotto voce_ to the elf hovering overhead.

‘The cute one,’ Raimondo muttered at Fraser, though there was no need for the elf to lower his voice.

Fraser looked at each of the young men, and decided that from his perspective, at least, _cute_ might describe three if not four of them. There was no time for further discussion, however. ‘Good morning,’ the Mountie said cheerfully. ‘I believe that a friend of mine borrowed this ghetto blaster from one of you gentlemen last night.’

They all blessed Fraser with identical glowering expressions. Perhaps this threatening look was as much a source of identification as the colors they wore.

‘I’m afraid he probably neglected to ask for permission…’

‘You didn’t tell me to!’ the elf protested.

‘…so I would understand if you were a trifle upset. However, I assure you it remains in perfect working order.’

One of the young men demanded, ‘What do you want, cop?’

‘Only to return this to its rightful owner. And to compensate him for the batteries, which have unfortunately been almost completely drained.’

Fraser proffered the ghetto blaster towards the group, and at last the man who’d spoken stepped forward to take it. He looked it over suspiciously, easily turning it round in his hands despite the machine’s bulk.

Taking off his stetson, Fraser slipped a note out of the crown, and offered it to the fellow – who was indeed cute. ‘That should cover the cost of new batteries,’ Fraser said.

A look of great confusion and resentment passed across the young man’s face. ‘Why is this money pink?’ he demanded.

‘And what’s a ghetto blaster?’ the elf asked peevishly.

‘Oh dear,’ said Benton Fraser.

♦

‘I’m sorry I pretended it was a cellular phone,’ Fraser said for the twentieth time. ‘I was so happy to see you again, and so proud of you for helping me, that I didn’t want to discourage you.’

The elf, who knew he looked adorable when he sulked, was making the most of this situation. ‘You,’ he declared darkly, ‘were humoring me.’

Fraser reflected that he tended to choose such _demanding_ lovers… Nevertheless, Fraser felt he had given all of himself utterly over to Raimondo, and the elf was certainly worth that kind of devotion, the elf was worth all the attention and flattery that Raimondo enjoyed reveling in. The problem was that such a relationship would be easy in the long lazy indulgence of else-where, but it was rather more difficult here amidst all the conflicting loyalties and duties of Fraser’s world.

Having found an alley in which they might talk unobserved, Fraser beckoned his lover to him. ‘This is the truth,’ Fraser said. ‘You were very clever to have found me the ghetto blaster, Raimondo, and it matched the description I gave you. Part of the reason I didn’t mention the mistake was because I shared the responsibility for it – my description wasn’t exact enough to enable you to find me a cellular phone. You might have brought me any number of items to meet my request, and you weren’t responsible for the fact that the first one you saw wasn’t actually a phone.’

Raimondo was hovering a few feet away. ‘Silly creature,’ he muttered, already more than half appeased.

‘Well,’ said Fraser with a smile, ‘perhaps it takes a silly and rather misguided human to fall in love with an elf.’ He discovered that his stetson was in his hands, and he was working his way round the brim. Perhaps this betrayed a nervousness he was barely aware of himself.

‘Ah,’ Raimondo responded sadly. ‘You think our love is doomed.’

‘I hope that it isn’t, my friend. But it does seem to present us with… difficulties.’

The elf was considering Fraser, his head tilted to one side. ‘Do you know, Benton Fraser,’ he eventually observed, ‘a great-deal of your healing has come undone.’

‘The time I spent with you in your world healed me in ways I could not have managed here in Chicago.’

‘But you are living in the future and in the past again, rather than in the here and in the now. You are not giving the best of you to the present moment.’

Fraser closed his eyes for a moment, calling on all his courage. ‘Is that such a surprise?’ he asked, feeling so completely raw that his hands were shaking. ‘I would have thought you’d be flattered. _You_ are in my past, and _you_ are in my future.’

‘Oh, never mind _me_ ,’ the elf replied in the sincerest of tones. ‘ _You_ are in the present and nowhere else, Benton Fraser, and that must be your best focus.’

A moment before he could answer, ‘That is very wise of you, Raimondo. I will endeavor to learn that lesson.’

The elf darted in to press a kiss to Fraser’s forehead. ‘You are wise, too, Benton Fraser. And brave and odd and persistent and –’

‘Enough!’ Fraser cried out, smiling.

‘– optimistic and full of delight…’ Raimondo trailed off, then leaned in closer to kiss Fraser on the mouth.

Their embrace became something rather involving, and the kiss was an intense and private meshing of their true selves. The human felt bereft when the elf pulled away – not to mention embarrassed. It was strange, to say the very least, to keep company with a lover who remained unashamedly naked no matter what his state of arousal.

‘What do we do next?’ Raimondo asked, unconcerned.

‘Er…’ Fraser had to think for a moment in order to recall his current destination. He found that it helped if he averted his hungry gaze. ‘We will visit Gerard, and see if he can tell us anything more about McFadden.’

‘All right,’ Raimondo agreed. And, holding Fraser’s hand in his, the elf led the way out of the alley.

If Fraser appeared rather ridiculous to everyone but Diefenbaker, walking along with his hand apparently grasping nothing more than thin air at shoulder height – well, by now Fraser was used to being considered ridiculous by the denizens of Chicago…

♦

Gerard was in a room by himself at the hospital, with a police officer stationed at the door. While the ex‑Mountie was obviously going to survive, he did not look happy about the prospect. ‘Get away from me!’ he muttered at Fraser.

Ignoring this request, Fraser asked a few questions about McFadden, but Gerard didn’t want to cooperate. Instead he lay there on the bed, curled up with his back to Fraser, occasionally complaining into the pillow about the ghost of Robert Fraser and about strange winged creatures.

Again, Benton tried to reassure the man. ‘My father often visits me,’ he said, though he’d never mentioned this to anyone but Raimondo. ‘The traditional assumption would be that Dad has unfinished business. Which perhaps isn’t surprising in relation to his only son, whom he didn’t spend much time with while alive, and also the friend responsible for his death.’

Gerard twisted round to glare at Fraser – and instead cried out in alarm.

Following the man’s gaze back over his shoulder, Fraser of course saw his lover hovering there behind him. ‘Ah, may I introduce Raimondo?’ Fraser asked politely, turning back to Gerard. ‘He is an elf. At least, that’s how I refer to him, for the sake of convenience, and he says that will do.’

But Gerard was in no state to accept the evidence of his senses or of Fraser’s. ‘Get away from here!’ he said, settling back onto the bed.

‘You are in danger, Gerard. Not that I would grieve if Agent McFadden managed to kill you, but I will prevent that if I can. It is in your interests to help me.’

Looking over his shoulder again, Gerard’s impotent resentment abruptly became fury.

Fraser glanced back at the elf – who was poking his tongue out at Gerard, and generally pulling taunting faces. ‘Raimondo, stop that!’ Fraser admonished. ‘I apologize,’ he said to the older man, ‘for my companion’s rather crude interrogation techniques.’

But it was no use. Gerard hauled a pillow over his head, and remained buried there despite Fraser’s most reasonable pleas and arguments.

Giving up, Fraser turned – and then hustled his lover back into a corner of the room. ‘Don’t drive him mad, Raimondo,’ Fraser said. ‘Even he deserves better than that.’

The elf had the grace to look a little chagrined. But after a moment, Raimondo met Fraser forehead-to-forehead, and gently offered his opinion. ‘He’s already mad, Benton Fraser – he sees ghosts!’

‘Ah,’ said Fraser. ‘Ah, yes, he does.’ Not wanting to venture any further into that topic right now, Fraser sighed, and then led the elf out into the corridor.

‘Who do we talk to next?’ Raimondo asked.

‘Lieutenant Welsh.’ Fraser felt tired. He wondered if that was why the elf didn’t appear quite so bright to him this afternoon. Wanting reassurance himself, Fraser slipped a hand into Raimondo’s, and he walked like that to the twenty-seventh precinct station house, Dief trotting along at his side.

♦

The police had had no luck in locating Agent McFadden, and State’s Attorney Louise St Laurent (who was endeavoring to prosecute the case) informed Fraser and Welsh that Lloyd Nash hadn’t had any luck either. Louise, as usual, was furious. ‘Is _this_ is how the Chicago PD plans on finding a rogue ATF Agent – by relying on helpful criminals?’

‘Well, ma’am,’ offered Fraser, ‘as I understand it, you were relying on Mr. Nash in the first place to help bring McFadden to justice.’

‘I was relying on his direct testimony before a grand jury, _not_ on his investigative abilities.’

She was almost spitting the words. Raimondo was hovering there in the tiny office, wings humming over everyone’s heads, gazing at Louise in awe. ‘She is quite something, Benton Fraser.’

Trying not to glance up at his lover, whom everyone else remained oblivious to, Fraser frowned.

Louise’s tirade was continuing in Welsh’s direction now, and the Lieutenant at last interrupted her to explain his current intentions. She was wise enough to listen carefully, and to acknowledge his expertise.

‘Ai, she is full of fire,’ the elf opined appreciatively from somewhere in the direction of the ceiling. When Fraser finally looked up at him, the human saw a lusty grin enlivening Raimondo’s beautiful face. ‘If she were an elf, her hair would be barely-tamed flames – and when you fucked her you would sink into her hot wetness like molten lava…’

Constable Benton Fraser found himself blushing all the way from his toes up to his stetson. Unable to look at either his lover or the woman who Raimondo was so (understandably) impressed by, Fraser stared fixedly at Welsh – but that wasn’t an option, either, for the Lieutenant quickly became uncomfortable under his gaze. Luckily the meeting was soon ended, and it seemed that Fraser would not be required by anyone present for the rest of the day.

‘Let’s go,’ Fraser demanded when it seemed that Raimondo wanted to linger after Louise St Laurent. Luckily the other humans thought he was speaking to the ever-recalcitrant Diefenbaker.

Raimondo sighed, cast a forlorn look at the woman, and then at last trailed along after his lover and the wolf.

The Mountie took his two friends to a nearby park, and sat on a bench amidst a few struggling trees. It was as close to nature as he could get without taking the elf out to Morton’s Arboretum. Diefenbaker ran off to humor some children, probably in the hopes of being fed something involving chocolate. Raimondo draped himself across the grass at Fraser’s feet, sprawling facedown in elegant abandonment.

‘Well,’ said Fraser after a moment. ‘You told me off for admiring Francis, and yet you make it very obvious that you admire Ms. St Laurent.’

Raimondo turned his head to quirk a smile up at Fraser. ‘Are _you_ jealous now?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Good. Because you are the only creature I want to be with.’

Fraser smiled at him, and sat there in silence for a time, turning his face to the weak sunlight. At last he said, ‘Raimondo…’

‘Yes?’

‘We don’t seem to be able to find Agent McFadden in Chicago. I was wondering if Francis might have taken him else-where, in order to hide and perhaps regroup.’

‘No, it’s not the done thing,’ the elf said, lazily kicking his heels in the air.

‘Well, _you_ took _me_ else-where.’

‘That was different. I love you, and you needed healing. Francis couldn’t love anyone or anything if his life depended on it.’ Raimondo let out a gusty sigh. ‘And, anyway, your human McFadden isn’t his type.’

 _Ah_ , thought Fraser. Carefully he asked, ‘Were _you_ his type, dearest?’

Raimondo drew himself up onto his elbows, lower lip drooping in a disconcerted reaction… ‘Maybe I was,’ he said abruptly. ‘Once upon a time. But I have a clumsy oaf to worry about now.’

‘How terrible for you,’ Fraser lightly observed.

‘Well, the silly creature has beautiful eyes.’

Fraser added the inevitable qualification – ‘For a human.’

‘He has beautiful eyes,’ the elf stated. ‘And the prettiest face…’

‘You flatter me.’ Fraser considered Raimondo for long moments, and something belatedly occurred to him – the human had assumed that his own exhaustion was clouding his perceptions of the elf. However, now that he looked carefully, Fraser began to fear that Raimondo himself appeared… somewhat diminished. The elf had always shone with his own brilliance – even when lazing around and doing nothing in the else-where world, that had been the choice and the indulgence of a vibrant creature – but now it seemed that Raimondo’s sprawl might be more a result of listlessness. Fraser quietly asked, ‘Are you feeling all right, my friend?’

The elf shrugged. ‘It’s always cold in your quick-world. Cold and… grey.’

‘Ah.’

‘And your Chicago isn’t the nicest place.’

‘Perhaps you shouldn’t spend so much time here.’

Hurt and resentment flared with all of Raimondo’s usual energy. ‘Don’t you want me here with you, horrible human?’

‘Of course I want you with me, silly elf.’ Fraser met his lover’s reluctantly amused smile with a genuine one of his own. ‘I’m concerned about you, however. It seems that you’re not in your element.’ Which actually provided yet another reason for the Mountie to suggest the next step in his plan. After a moment, Fraser said, ‘I fear that McFadden and Francis have been up to no good.’

As Raimondo considered him, the elf’s expression became suitably wary and serious.

‘Do you remember the felon we dealt with when I first met you?’

‘Yes,’ was the hushed reply, ‘of course. I stopped him _forever_.’

‘Do you recall that he carried a gun? It was a…’ How had the elf described it at the time? ‘A dark hard little loud thing that he held in his hands.’

‘It was nasty.’

‘Yes. A being can do a great deal of harm with a gun. I am very afraid that McFadden has been sending shipments of guns else-where, and Francis has been paying for them with gold.’

Raimondo was staring at him. ‘No…’

‘ _No_ , you’re sure they haven’t? Or _no_ , you think it unlikely?’

‘ _No_ , it’s such a terrible idea!’

Fraser nodded. ‘It is terrible. But is it also possible?’

A long moment before Raimondo reluctantly indicated his agreement that such a thing was indeed possible. He slowly lifted himself up, and sat cross-legged facing Fraser – who nobly endeavored to keep his gaze above shoulder-level, which was where it belonged during this serious discussion.

‘Then, Raimondo, would you please take me else-where, so that we can find out what’s happening, and if possible do something about it?’

Another long considering pause before the elf said, ‘Yes.’

‘Then I have one more favor to ask of you before we go,’ Fraser said. ‘Will you tell me what you can about Francis, my friend, so that I know something of who we’re dealing with?’

The elf let out a gusty sigh. ‘Ai, Benton Fraser, I will tell you the whole sorry story…’

Fraser conveyed his gratitude with an encouraging smile.

After a while, Raimondo began. ‘There was a woman I used to know, I used to love, her name was Iriana – Francis stopped her _forever_. She was his sister, and he was jealous of both of us. I knew it was him who stopped her, but everyone else thought I was leaping to conclusions. Iriana had blue eyes and pale skin and dark hair, like you, Benton Fraser. She was beautiful, like you. And then a woman Francis was loving, Helena, she disappeared, too. And I knew it was him, and I knew Helena was alive no more. That’s the most serious rule you can break, stopping someone forever.’

The elf tilted his head to see the human’s reaction – Fraser nodded, and said, ‘Yes, it is.’

‘Then Francis did something else that was bad, he destroyed a beautiful grove of oaks, burned them down. And that place, it’s still scarred and charred though it happened so long ago you wouldn’t understand it, you live too quickly. I decided to bear witness against him again, even though no one had believed me about Iriana and Helena.’ The elf sighed. ‘I took Francis before the elders, and told them all I knew about him and about what he’d done, and at last they took my word, and he was banished. Francis always said he was innocent, and the elders only believed me about the oak grove, and maybe I was wrong anyway. But no one liked him, and they were all glad he was gone.’

‘I see,’ Fraser murmured.

Raimondo looked away, and added, ‘No one liked me very much, either, Benton Fraser. Bearing witness – someone has to do it, but that someone always ends up lonely.’

Once again Fraser felt the melting sensation that meant he loved this creature with all of himself – that meant he had given himself to Raimondo, and would give himself again and again… Fraser knelt before the elf, and pressed a kiss to his troubled forehead, and whispered, ‘I’ve been lonely, too, dearheart.’

And they held each other there for a long while, not caring about the few humans wandering by who could only see Fraser.

♦

Else-where here was as different from Raimondo’s home as the city of Chicago was from the wilds of Canada. ‘I told you, Benton Fraser,’ the elf muttered, ‘I told you this is not a nice place.’

Fraser looked around as Raimondo lowered them both down to a wooden raft floating in swampland. Chicago’s else-where was cold and dank, with a few dead trees standing stark amidst grasses and stagnant water. Insects clouded the dull air, buzzing incessantly. None of this, perhaps, was unexpected given the city’s origins in the swamps of Lake Michigan. Instead, what really surprised Fraser were the ramshackle wooden buildings on stilts, most reaching the precarious height of two stories. Strings of glow-worms and a few battered old gas-lamps held the dusk at bay. Everything seemed tawdry and unwholesome.

‘They’ve built themselves homes?’ Fraser asked as his feet touched the raft. As far as he knew, Raimondo simply lived on the grass around that liquid sapphire pool of his, needing no shelter from the gentle sky.

‘There are so many _made_ -things here,’ Raimondo observed. ‘Maybe it’s not bad, maybe it’s not good – but it’s very different.’

‘I suppose it’s difficult to live in a swamp, otherwise. They need a floor, and perhaps a roof.’

‘But there are other places they could live, you know. There is so much beauty else-where, with no one around for a long-long-ways. I don’t understand why they choose to be here.’

Deciding there was no reason to delay their business, Fraser asked, ‘Well, where shall we start to look for Francis?’

‘You’re the one who knows what he’s _do_ ing here,’ the elf sullenly replied.

‘Then why don’t we ask someone?’ Fraser had seen some movement in and around the buildings. He was at a disadvantage, however – as everyone who lived here had wings, there were no pathways between the buildings. If he’d had to, he would have waded through the swamp, but Fraser was rather glad that the elf could carry him instead.

Raimondo wrapped his arms around the human, and lifted into the air. They headed for the nearest buildings, attracting very little interest – it seemed these elves weren’t the curious sort. To Fraser’s eye, none of them had Raimondo’s fresh vigor or Francis’s handsome charisma. They were, instead, a bawdy lot – no doubt not irredeemable, but apparently not caring, either. Raimondo was keeping his distance as best he could from everything and everyone.

‘There!’ Fraser said, indicating a woman lounging around on a covered raft. A few of the elves wore articles of clothing (though that didn’t necessarily guarantee they were decently covered) but this woman bore a gold chain around her throat. Raimondo lowered Fraser down to stand before her, and the Mountie said, ‘How do you do, ma’am?’

She tilted her chin up at him, perhaps aware of the effect of her pert face and green eyes framed by thick tawny hair – perhaps aware that to a human, her prettiness was as wonderfully exaggerated as everything else-where. ‘Hello, human.’

‘We’re looking for a being like yourself named Francis,’ Fraser explained, ‘and I was wondering if you could help us.’

‘Francis is never hard to find,’ she responded, smiling more the more she looked at Fraser. ‘Try the biggest house in town, the only one made of stone. Francis isn’t one to hide.’

‘Thank you, ma’am. And may I ask if Francis brought a man here with him? A human like me, though with darker skin?’

‘Yes, he did. Didn’t seem like much of a play-thing to me…’ Her smile was by now a lascivious grin. ‘Human, I can understand why you’re chasing after Francis – he’s an attractive creature. But when he’s done with you, why don’t you have your tame-thing bring you back here? I’m sure you and I could have some fun together…’

‘Tame thing?’ Fraser repeated. Then he belatedly realized that she was referring to Raimondo. Fraser reached back to hold his lover’s hand. ‘Er, thank you kindly for the offer, ma’am, but I’m otherwise engaged.’ Giving her a farewell nod, Fraser turned to Raimondo, and put his arms around the elf’s shoulders.

They were hovering thirty feet overhead within the blink of an eye. ‘How did you know,’ Raimondo sullenly began, ‘that she would know where Francis was?’

‘The gold chain she was wearing.’

The elf wrinkled his brow in confusion.

Fraser explained, ‘Francis is paying for the guns with gold. There are few human-made objects here, and she is the only elf I’ve seen wearing jewelry. Perhaps McFadden illustrated one of the reasons humans value gold by giving Francis the chain, and perhaps _he_ passed it on to the woman as a gift.’

None of this soothed Raimondo’s brow. The two of them were continuing to rise into the sky, the elf’s wings humming powerfully – they were so high now that the scattering of buildings below looked like tiny toys. The distance gave them some privacy, and the air seemed lighter. ‘She liked you,’ Raimondo observed.

‘Apparently so.’

Raimondo stared at him. ‘I think maybe everyone likes you, Benton Fraser. I think, with one glance of your beautiful blue eyes, maybe you could have anyone.’

‘I don’t believe so. Anyway,’ Fraser added, ‘I don’t want anyone. I love _you_.’ The elf remained unconvinced. ‘Don’t you trust me?’

‘Yes,’ Raimondo said reluctantly.

‘In any case, _you’re_ the beautiful one, Raimondo. You’re the exotic one. I believe you could enchant anyone without even trying, yet you say you love a mere human like me.’

The elf was smiling again. ‘I _do_ love you, Benton Fraser. I _am_ loving you.’

‘I’m glad.’

‘I love you…’ Raimondo cast about him for inspiration. ‘I love you… round the world three times and out to the stars.’

Fraser gaped. ‘You know that the earth is _round_?’

Raimondo glared at him. ‘Well, of course I do, silly human. We knew the world wasn’t flat when your lot were still trying to wipe out the dinosaurs.’

‘Oh,’ said Fraser, feeling foolish. ‘I’m sorry.’

Apparently feeling rather put out again, the elf began drifting slowly back down towards the else-where town of Chicago. ‘Where do we go now?’ he asked. ‘To the big stone house where Francis lives?’

‘Yes.’

‘All right.’

The building was easy enough to find, being obvious from the air – and it was deserted, which wasn’t unexpected. The rooms echoed around them, virtually empty. Fraser supposed that a few crates of weapons lying around in plain view would have been too much to ask for, whether or not Francis was one to hide. There was, however, something lying in the hall that Fraser returned to, and gazed down upon.

‘What is it?’ the elf asked at last, after joining the human in quiet contemplation for a few moments.

‘Twigs from a tree.’

‘Well, I can _see_ that,’ Raimondo retorted. ‘ _Why_ are you staring at them?’

‘Do you see how neatly they’re arranged? It must be significant.’ There were five twigs, each of much the same size, and they were arranged in a precise circle, right in the center of the entrance hall. Fraser said, ‘I think Francis has left us a clue to his current whereabouts. Does the pattern mean anything to you, Raimondo?’

‘Yes.’

‘It does?’ Fraser looked up at his lover, trying not to be surprised. He really shouldn’t underestimate this creature, who was so evolved in so many ways even if he controlled his emotions about as well as a child. _No_ , thought Fraser, being justifiably severe on himself – _Raimondo is simply and wonderfully different, comparisons in this situation are odious, and I love him dearly_.

‘A fair-ways over there,’ Raimondo said, indicating a vague direction with the wave of a hand, ‘was a grove of that many trees on rising ground. They were in a circle, just like these twigs.’

‘Ah.’ Fraser smiled at the elf. ‘That’s very good. I didn’t notice the grove while I was in your arms…’

Raimondo rolled his eyes. ‘Do I distract you so much?’

‘I’m afraid so. And I was ignoring the obvious, I was assuming this must be a symbol or representation that held some meaning for elves.’

‘Well, do we go there now?’

‘Yes.’ But Raimondo seemed impatient and unhappy, and lacking in vitality – it seemed that this else-where suited the elf no better than Chicago had. Fraser really should let Raimondo go home, as soon as was practicable. For now, the human offered, ‘That was very clever of you, not only seeing the grove of trees, but realizing that location was what Francis was trying to communicate to us.’

It seemed that the elf was too tired and depressed to even bother pouting. ‘I’m not clever, Benton Fraser. I’m not up to this. I wouldn’t have figured out about the gold chain, and I wouldn’t have thought this was a message. It just looks pretty, and Francis likes pretty things…’

‘You’re doing fine,’ Fraser said, slipping a hand into Raimondo’s. ‘You’re doing just fine, my friend.’ The human was expecting a kiss, but instead the elf led him outside, and then lifted him up into the air.

They didn’t talk. During the short flight to the grove of trees, Fraser simply held on to his lover with needy arms, cuddling up to him, working and rubbing his face into the warmth of Raimondo’s throat. The elf answered the embrace, and at last bestowed a kiss to Fraser’s hair. They began to ease down towards a low hill crowned by five trees.

Fraser gave the area a cursory glance while still airborne, not really expecting Francis or his colleagues to be here. No doubt another clue was waiting there for the elf and the human instead. For now, Fraser sighed, and pressed a kiss to the tender spot just behind Raimondo’s earlobe – then darted out his tongue-tip to tease for a moment.

That earned the human an earthy little chuckle, to which Fraser couldn’t help but respond in kind.

♦

Fraser stood there looking around the grove. It was an eerie kind of place, with a strange rustling in the trees caused by no breeze that the human could feel. He had never discounted such feelings and reactions, even when he couldn’t find a rational explanation for them. ‘Something’s wrong here, Raimondo,’ he said.

‘ _Everything’s_ wrong here,’ the elf replied in the heaviest of tones. ‘Look! What is this, Benton Fraser?’ Raimondo was hovering in the very center of the circle, holding something in his hands, peering at it in confusion.

The object was the model of a car – one of those big showy cars for Americans who cared more about size than economy – painted a rather in-your-face red. ‘It’s a motor vehicle,’ said Fraser, ‘a car from the human world.’

‘What does it do?’

‘Er, people use them to travel in, rather than walk too far. Because we don’t have wings. You must have noticed them on the roads in Chicago.’

‘But how does it work? This is so small.’ Raimondo was holding it at different angles, lifting it high, trying to make it _go_.

Fraser laughed fondly. ‘Dearheart, I’m sorry. It’s a small _model_ of a car, it’s only a representation. And it hasn’t been taken care of – it’s been crushed, do you see?’

‘Ah… I remember now, the big ones on the roads. They were nasty things.’

‘Yes, though they have their uses.’ Leaving the elf to puzzle over the toy, Fraser wandered off to try to find further clues. He suspected that the model car was the only deliberate message Francis had left – which seemed to indicate that the trail led back to the human world – but maybe there was other trace evidence here.

_‘Ai!’_

At Raimondo’s frightened cry, Fraser spun around. A heavy net had dropped over the elf, bearing his wings down, tangling his limbs, and creating panic.

As Fraser started forward to help his lover, arms crept round his waist from behind – and the human was whisked up into the air.

A dizzying moment of beating wings and taunting laughter. _‘Benton Fraser!’_ wailed Raimondo – his voice thinned by terror and distance. They were moving too fast, the air rushing by at such a speed that Fraser could barely breathe. The feeble stars came out…

The Mountie managed to notice black silk sleeves and pale golden hands holding him before he passed out.

♦

He awoke bound and gagged, in the human world, in the back seat of a stripped car. Looking about him as well as he was able, Fraser found that Diefenbaker was secured in the front of the car, and the wolf appeared to be rather disgruntled about the situation. Fraser couldn’t blame him. The car itself was painted an in-your-face red – an exact match for the model that Raimondo had found. A Buick Riviera from the early 1970s, if Fraser wasn’t mistaken. Remembering that the model car had been crushed, Fraser realized that they were in a wrecking yard, and in fact the car was already in the maw of the compactor. He let out a sigh, gagged though he was.

It could be assumed that Raimondo was supposed to figure out the clue and follow Fraser here. But surely it was unlikely Raimondo would reach him in time – if at all. The elf had said himself that he was no good at this kind of puzzle, though Fraser thought Raimondo didn’t give himself enough credit. To complicate the matter, however, any moment’s delay or hesitation while the elf was else-where would mean hours of waiting here in the quick-world. And Fraser found that part of him, survival instincts aside, was reluctant for Raimondo to get caught up in this cleverness and this danger – better for the elf to go home, back where he belonged, where he seemed to draw some necessary nourishment from the air and the water and the gentle sunlight.

If he wasn’t gagged, Fraser could call Raimondo to him, and that would be that. Fraser’s survival instincts were clamoring to be heard over his concern for the elf’s safety. However, he loved the elf, with all his heart and soul, and Raimondo’s survival and well-being were at least equally as important to him as his own, if not _more_ important.

The dilemma was academic. It was highly unlikely that Raimondo would find Fraser here, and even if he did it would probably be too late. Fraser was facing this deadly situation on his own.

As he began to work at the ropes fastening his hands behind his back, Fraser closed his eyes and imagined his lover. The beautiful and quixotic and emotional Raimondo… _Don’t feel bad if I die_ , Fraser silently told him. _Don’t feel guilty that you couldn’t save me, I’m sure you did your best. Forgive yourself, my friend – I forgive you_ …

Fraser had already loosened the bonds enough for him to explore his surroundings, though his hands remained secured behind him. Presumably it had only been an ATF Agent tying him up, after all, rather than an ex‑Mountie. Though this time they had been wise enough to gag him so that he couldn’t call his lover to him. Not that Raimondo would be able to hear him from else-where, his senses weren’t _that_ good…

Which meant of course that the power of calling must be based on something more than simple sound. Fraser would be free from his bonds soon – and it occurred to him that Raimondo would want to help if he could, in fact it would be seen as insulting _not_ to call on him. _Raimondo!_ Fraser mentally cried – also voicing the name as well as he was able, even though it came out as nothing more than a muffled mumble. Diefenbaker was watching him with alert approval. _Raimondo! Raimondo!_

The elf appeared, hovering a few feet away outside the car. ‘Benton Fraser…’ he whispered, seeing the human trapped there. ‘I feared you were alive no more. Are you whole?’

It seemed that the heavy net had done some damage – one of Raimondo’s wings was bent somewhat out of shape, and his posture accounted for the imbalance. The overall effect of the elf’s recent adventures was one of dishevelment of body and soul. Fraser’s heart ached to realize this.

Raimondo darted forward, and reached inside the car to pull the gag down out of Fraser’s mouth.

‘Don’t come in here!’ Fraser quickly said as soon as he was able. ‘There’s a snare behind me. If you try to untie me, you’ll be caught as well.’

‘Well,’ replied the elf with the saddest humor, ‘I never was much good with knots and buttons anyway.’

Fraser firmly contradicted him. ‘You are very good at all kinds of things, and you were very clever to have found me.’

‘I didn’t have to be clever – I realized that my love for you meant I could feel you calling me, no matter what. So I didn’t have to figure out the clue.’ Raimondo looked down at the model car he still clutched in one hand, and then threw it away with a grimace of disgust.

‘Then, you were clever to have realized that,’ Fraser told him, blessing him with a smile. ‘Thank you for coming to me. I don’t know whether there is another clue to follow, and another step to take before we find Francis. I hope I haven’t brought you into danger.’

The elf shrugged. ‘You know, human, I saved your life for a third time when you first called me to your Chicago, and three times is the charm – so I’m yours now, if I wasn’t before, and you’re mine. I’ll face the danger with you.’

‘How sentimental…’ A different voice, dripping with disgust.

Fraser looked around to see McFadden approaching, gun in hand aimed directly at Raimondo.

‘Oh, this is just too sick,’ McFadden continued. ‘If only your true-blue Mountie friends could hear you now…’

‘Do you mean to tell me,’ Fraser asked, happy to throw the man further off balance, ‘that you never found Francis attractive? I thought he was rather handsome, myself. If I was in your position, I would have been sorely tempted…’

Apparently McFadden wanted to lose his lunch at the very idea.

Francis himself joined the group, with an amused smile on his face. ‘Why, thank you, Constable. It’s mutual. But Raimondo always did have good taste in lovers.’

The elf glowered at his fellow creature. ‘Don’t make me remember Iriana right now, Francis, you’re wiser than that.’

‘I was hoping you’d remember me…’

Considering the other elf for a moment, Raimondo said, ‘Yes, I remember you, I remember the love we had. But let us concentrate on the here and now. Benton Fraser wants to deal with your McFadden in this world, he wants to bring him to justice in their human way.’

Francis didn’t drop his gaze from Raimondo’s, despite McFadden’s disbelieving protest. ‘That would leave you and me, Raimondo, to deal with each other. What do _you_ want?’

‘That you remain banished from our home. That you quit dealing with McFadden and humans like him. That you think about what harm you do yourself and those around you by bringing nasty guns into our world.’

A long moment stretched. ‘And why should he?’ McFadden cried out. Fraser reflected that McFadden must feel terribly confused – he had the gun, and he would therefore expect to have the advantage – and yet the elves seemed to disregard that entirely. ‘What reason does Frank have, to do any of that?’

‘He has a conscience,’ Raimondo said calmly.

‘You have got to be kidding me,’ McFadden muttered. ‘Frank, let’s just get these two out of our way, like we agreed, and then get on with business.’ He waved his gun at Raimondo. ‘Get in the car with your friend. Or I’ll just shoot you right now, right where you are.’

Raimondo cast the human a coldly forbidding look. ‘And why should I?’

‘Aren’t you two sentimental enough to want to die together?’ McFadden taunted. ‘Get in there! I figured we’d add a Mountie and an elf to that lady’s _Pressed Fairy Book_.’

By now the two elves, the other human and the wolf were all looking at McFadden as if he were mad.

The rogue ATF Agent continued, ‘Conscience or not, Frank, these two are loose ends that we need to tie up.’

‘No,’ said Francis. It was obvious that he was used to being obeyed.

‘Yes!’ cried McFadden – and he fired at Raimondo.

The elf was quick, but not quite quick enough – the bullet hit his left shoulder as he tried to dart out of the way. Raimondo was spun around by the impact, and fell to the ground facedown, a grunt of pain abruptly choked off.

Fraser, having just managed to free his hands, flung himself out through the car window, his only thought to prevent McFadden from finishing the job. He would have been too late –

– but Francis pushed towards McFadden and took the second bullet on Raimondo’s behalf.

Blood spattered from Francis’s chest. His own determination and momentum carried him forward, until with an enraged growling yell he gathered McFadden up in both arms. Fraser watched, gaping, as the pair spun around in the air – the human struggling, and whimpering a frightened plea – and then Francis took McFadden else-where.

In the sudden silence, Fraser rushed to Raimondo’s side, gaze and gentle hands endeavoring to ascertain the extent of his injury. He’d already lost a great deal of blood, though the wound had clotted, far faster than a human’s would have. ‘Raimondo…?’

‘Benton Fraser…’

‘What should I do?’ Fraser knew one thing very clearly – ‘You need to be home in your else-where.’

The elf nodded tiredly. ‘Take me north in this world, take me near to where we first met, and then I can get home from there.’

‘All right.’ Alarmed to see that Raimondo was drifting away into unconsciousness, Fraser caressed that beautiful face. ‘Stay with me, dearheart. Stay awake with me.’

‘No, it’s a healing thing, Benton Fraser. Let me sleep. Hold me when you can, and love me, and let me sleep.’

Fraser nodded, and received the loveliest of smiles before Raimondo closed his eyes, apparently willing to entrust his entire welfare to the human. ‘One moment,’ Fraser muttered to himself. He ran the few steps back to the wrecked car, freed Diefenbaker from his bonds, and then returned to pick his lover up, cradling the too-light and so-precious burden in his arms. ‘Dief, we need a taxi,’ Fraser announced. ‘We’re going to the airport.’

♦

‘You chartered a light plane?!’ Robert Fraser exclaimed. ‘Think of the expense!’

‘How else could I get him north quickly enough?’ Benton muttered, not wanting the pilot to hear his one-sided conversation with a ghost – the man had already looked askance a few times at the (to him) invisible thing Fraser was embracing.

Raimondo hadn’t stirred from his healing sleep. The elf’s breathing rate and heartbeat were so slow as to be almost impossible to discern, yet the wound was already showing signs of closing up. Luckily, the bullet itself had passed right through him.

‘Still, son, it seems a little extravagant.’

‘It’s not like I didn’t have the money. Maybe this is the rainy day I was saving for.’

‘And what next?’ his father asked, that familiar gruffly displeased tone in his voice.

‘We’re heading for the nearest town with an airstrip, north along the river. I’ll buy an inflatable boat, and take Raimondo as close to his home as I can.’ Benton stared out through the window, though it was dark and there were no lights below, no signs of human habitation, no stars above. At last he answered Robert’s question, ‘Perhaps I won’t need money anymore, Dad. Perhaps I’ll stay with him else-where. If he wants me there, and if he doesn’t die.’

Diefenbaker yapped once, and then a silence stretched.

‘I thought it was something like that,’ Robert eventually commented. ‘I wouldn’t be able to visit you there, you know.’

‘I… did wonder about that.’ Benton turned to look at his father. ‘But isn’t it time for you to move on to whatever comes next? Dad, you had unfinished business here, but surely that’s done now.’

The ghost shook his head, but in a considering manner. ‘I suppose you’re right. As usual.’

‘I’m usually right?’ Benton repeated in disbelief.

‘Of course you are.’ Robert stood in the aisle of the tiny plane, and shook Benton’s hand. ‘Goodbye, son.’

‘Goodbye, Dad. I love you.’

An embarrassed mutter answered this declaration, though Benton was sure he detected the word _love_ in there somewhere. He smiled, glanced away – and when he looked back, his father was gone. Diefenbaker paid respect to Robert Fraser’s passing with a brief howl (which the pilot was unimpressed by), and then the wolf settled back down again.

Benton Fraser gathered Raimondo closer, leaned his head back against the seat, and allowed himself an hour’s peaceful rest.

♦

Surprisingly enough it didn’t take much to rouse Raimondo from his sleep, despite the deep obliviousness of it. ‘Hello, Benton Fraser,’ the elf said weakly.

‘We’re here, my friend.’

Raimondo looked about him, apparently pleased and proud to find that they were indeed amongst the rocks by the river. The elf had brought Fraser here when he was blind and in dire need of water, and then Raimondo had helped the Mountie deal with the felon who’d chased them. The dust-bowl next to where Raimondo now lay was actually the quick-world version of the elf’s sapphire pool else-where. ‘You brought me to the very place!’

‘Of course I did.’ Fraser let his fingers linger in a caress of that beautiful face. ‘Now, are you capable of making your way home from here?’

‘Yes.’ Raimondo looked up at him. ‘And you?’

Fraser glanced away for a moment, conscious that he mustn’t delay the elf’s departure. ‘I’ll wait for you here. If you want me to.’

A smile broke across that face exhausted by the worldliness of others and by his own pain. ‘Then, come with me now, Benton Fraser. I love you.’

‘Yes,’ said Fraser. ‘ _Yes_.’

The elf struggled to sit up, with Fraser helping him, and Raimondo looked around for Diefenbaker. When he saw the wolf nearby, he sang a question. Dief yapped a positive reply. ‘Come, then,’ said Raimondo. It seemed the wolf would accompany them, too.

‘Is this possible?’ Fraser asked, concerned about Raimondo. ‘Are you trying to do too much?’ But he was quickly hushed.

The three of them were soon arranged. Fraser carried Dief balanced over one shoulder. The human held onto Raimondo around the elf’s waist, and Raimondo’s good right arm hung onto him in turn. Once they were settled, Raimondo pushed higher into the air, spun slowly around, forced himself with a groan to find enough speed, and then took them else-where.

♦

The three friends fell onto the grass in a painful heap – Raimondo unconscious. His wings looked no more functional now than crumpled tissue paper.

Dief managed to quickly extricate himself. Heedless of his own bruises, Fraser gathered the elf into his arms, trying to discover whether this was the healing sleep again, or something more serious – he couldn’t tell. He couldn’t tell. Raimondo’s nut-brown skin looked far too pale.

Fraser let go of his lover, stood up and staggered back. ‘Help me!’ he cried out, having no idea whether anyone could hear him or not. _‘Help me!’_ No response, though it seemed as if everything in this rich else-where night had gone suddenly still. ‘Someone please… _help me!’_

He didn’t see where they came from – one moment, Fraser was alone with his broken lover and his helpless wolf – and the next, Raimondo was surrounded by six or seven elves bending over him, fussing in a quiet no-nonsense way.

Watching as they conferred about his lover’s condition, Fraser was ignored. Eventually one of them produced a bottle of thickly golden liquid. A few drops were poured on the entrance and exit wounds in Raimondo’s shoulder, and another few drops were sprinkled on his lips. Then the other elves withdrew, hovering over Raimondo for a moment with a sense of satisfaction. All but one disappeared again as quickly as they had arrived.

Anxious, Fraser drew near the fallen elf, reached out to run a careful hand over the cropped hair – which prickled and tickled his palm as if alive and stirring. Raimondo’s color seemed improved, and his sleep seemed more natural. ‘Will he be all right?’ Fraser whispered.

The other elf, an older man, said, ‘Yes, human, he will heal.’

‘What should I do to help him?’

‘What you’ve been doing. Hold him, love him, bathe him, let him sleep.’

‘Bathe him? He seems… too fragile.’ It was as if those once-resplendent wings might tear during such a procedure.

But the other elf had gone.

Fraser let out a sigh. Well, he would simply be as careful as he could, for there was no denying that he himself had found those gem-like waters to have powers both soothing and invigorating.

The wolf was waiting nearby. ‘It’s all right, Dief,’ Fraser said reassuringly. ‘He’ll be fine. I’ll take care of him – you go and explore to your heart’s content.’

A happy bark was the only reply. But Fraser was touched when Dief came over to rasp his tongue across Raimondo’s temple, before trotting off.

Fraser slowly shed his brown uniform, dropping each item of clothing in a careless pile on the grass, his attention fixed only on his lover. When he was as naked as Raimondo, he once again gathered the elf into his arms, and then he walked into the pool.

The elf floated on his back, still completely unaware of his surroundings, with only Fraser’s hand cupped beneath Raimondo’s head to ensure he didn’t sink. His poor delicate wings lay on the water’s surface to either side of him. With his free hand, Fraser began caressing his lover’s skin, gently smoothing the water into every pore and washing away the dirt of the dull-world, his touch as reverential on Raimondo’s arms and legs as on his face and genitals. Slowly, the wings seemed to soak up the water, and they drifted down to rest below the elf.

Fearing that the elf would become cold (though Raimondo had always complained that the human world wasn’t warm enough compared to else-where), Fraser soon picked Raimondo up again and carried him to the grassy bank. Lying down, the human arranged the elf to sprawl facedown upon him, in an echo of how they had recently slept together in the dawn light of the quick-world.

‘Sleep well, my dear,’ Fraser murmured. ‘Heal well.’

And the human at last let himself slip away into his own much-needed sleep.

♦

The long else-where night slowly passed. It was equivalent, as near as Fraser could tell, to a human week – for, obedient to his own body’s demands, he slept seven times while the velvet darkness slid by.

Raimondo and the other elf had both suggested that Fraser should hold Raimondo, and indeed Fraser vaguely recalled reading of a study proving that skin-to-skin contact was good for humans in more ways than the emotional and the erotic. He didn’t know if the same physical reactions would work in human-to-elf contact, but he was more than prepared to try.

So Fraser spent his time awake bathing Raimondo in the pool, watching fascinated as the wound in his shoulder healed, holding the elf close, and singing or talking to him. Diefenbaker often returned to keep Fraser company, and to watch over the elf’s progress – otherwise it seemed that the wolf was very happy running around else-where on his own.

Whenever Fraser slept, it was with the elf in his embrace. Raimondo didn’t once stir from his own sleep.

It was tiring, Fraser had to admit, being so focused on this oblivious creature. But he found that he felt more committed to Raimondo than ever, and Fraser simply wouldn’t have had it any other way. He was proud to care for his lover in these humble ways.

And the interminable night eased by…

♦

Fraser woke in the rose-glow of coming dawn to find the elf sprawled across him, snoring loudly and inelegantly. Perhaps it was the slight increase in light, but it seemed that Raimondo’s color was almost returned to his healthy nut-brown. And there was something about the elf’s expression and (of course) his lusty snoring that indicated this was a more normal sleep. Fraser found himself smiling, certain that they had turned the corner.

Sure enough, Raimondo eventually stirred and opened his eyes. After a long moment of eyeing Fraser, the elf grumbled, ‘It’s about time you woke up.’

The human gaped. ‘I beg your pardon?’

But Raimondo couldn’t help himself – he was soon grinning broadly, unable to keep a straight face. When the elf let out a laugh, Fraser joined him, an appreciative chuckle rippling through and out of him. The two creatures held each other carefully and joyously, each so aware of how precious the other was. The laughter became musical as the else-where sun cast its first rays into the sky above them.

When Raimondo sobered, he said lightly, ‘Ai, Benton Fraser, you must be the bestest friend a being ever had.’

‘I simply try to be what you deserve,’ the human responded.

For a long moment they drank in the sight of each other. Then Fraser lifted his head to kiss his lover. It was a sweeter kiss than any Fraser had ever even conceived of. And they spent a long beautiful while simply reveling in who they were and where they were and all that they had survived together.

♦

Later, it became time to talk of serious matters. ‘Benton Fraser,’ said the elf with great solemnity, ‘you have been gone from your world for a long-while, and all for my sake. If you want me to take you back, I will do so.’

Fraser shook his head, though he suspected that human-months had passed him by. ‘It doesn’t matter, for now at least.’ He offered Raimondo a smile, though it soon faded, and then he asked about something else that had been preying on his mind. ‘What do you think about the situation with Francis and McFadden? Is it resolved, or is there more to do?’

Raimondo tilted his head as he thought about this. He was sitting there cross-legged on the grassy bank, his wings (having recovered their iridescent green sheen) propped lazily on the ground behind him. ‘There are nasty worlds out there,’ the elf said at last. ‘Some are like your tales of Hell, all conflagration and horror and brimstone. I don’t like to imagine where Francis took McFadden. My old friend was so full of fury and maybe even self-remorse.’

‘I see.’

‘Francis was hurt so badly,’ Raimondo continued in sad tones, ‘that I don’t think he would have survived very long, going to such a place…’

Very gently Fraser asked, ‘Would he really have sacrificed himself like that? From what you tell me of him, Francis was a selfish and greedy creature, who didn’t care much for others.’

‘In the heat of his anger, and thinking of me, I feel he might have. Benton Fraser, he was wounded in the heart –’ and it was apparent Raimondo meant both the physical effects of McFadden’s gun-shot and the emotional effects of what Francis had done over the years – ‘and he had no one to take care of him the way you took care of me. He would not have healed.’

Fraser had no choice but to accept this, and indeed it made sense. Raimondo hadn’t been as badly hurt as Francis, yet he had needed a great deal of time and attention in order to heal.

‘What about you?’ Raimondo asked in the quietest of voices.

‘What about me?’ Fraser replied, knowing he was playing for time.

‘Don’t you want to go home?’

‘I, er…’ At last Fraser said, ‘I’m not very good at saying goodbye a second time.’

‘No? Tell me more,’ the elf asked.

Obviously an explanation was required. Fraser began trying to tell the sad and complicated story of his love for Victoria Metcalfe. How he had met her when he was very young, how he had chosen his duty over her love, and how he had said goodbye for the first time in a jail cell.

Stumbling through the story, Fraser reflected that if it had been an Inuit tale he wouldn’t have had this trouble finding the best words.

‘I thought it was all over, but I was wrong.’ Years later Victoria had come to find him in Chicago, and Fraser had tried everything he could do to welcome her into his own world of law and order – until it became clear that she did not belong in his world, and instead Fraser began working to bring her to justice, though his heart broke. Until that last possible moment at the train station when she had cried, _Ben, come with me!_ and he’d found he couldn’t say goodbye for a second time.

‘So I went with her,’ Fraser said to Raimondo. ‘I couldn’t face another ten years of loneliness. I ran after the train, and leaped up into her arms, and I accompanied her into her world.’

‘And what happened next?’ the elf softly prompted.

Fraser had no more belonged in Victoria’s world of crime than she had belonged in his. He had woken in the cold light of day knowing that all too clearly, and he had arrested her, and she had shot him in the back and left him for dead.

A silence grew while Fraser and Raimondo each contemplated this sad story and all its ramifications. At last Raimondo said, ‘So – apart from wanting to take care of me, because I was injured, which I greatly appreciate – you did not want to tell me goodbye for a second time, you couldn’t face another long-while of loneliness, and you came into my world with me.’

‘Yes,’ said Fraser very simply.

‘But you know now that you don’t belong in my else-where world? Is that what you’re telling me, Benton Fraser?’

‘No…’ Fraser stared at his lover, and again it was all too clear. ‘I want to stay here with you, Raimondo. If that’s at all possible. There are probably rules against it… But I’d like to stay.’

‘I’d like that, too,’ said the elf.

‘I’ve come to realize that it’s very important for us to be together,’ Fraser said. ‘It’s no use trying to make it work any other way.’

‘Yes…’ The happiest of smiles. ‘It’s one of those special cases where alone we’re incomplete and together we’re better than we are separately.’

‘And we can’t be together anywhere other than here, with you in your element. Chicago didn’t suit you, Raimondo.’

‘Nor you, Benton Fraser.’

‘If your elders will let me stay?’

Raimondo shrugged with a remarkable lack of concern. ‘If they complain, we’ll deal with it. The others helped you with me, hhmmm? They didn’t try to chase you away?’

‘Yes, they did help. And, no, they didn’t suggest I leave.’ Fraser got up onto his knees, cupped his lover’s face in both hands, and kissed him. There was a depth to the kiss, a solemn kind of joy, and this time Fraser knew that it was forever. When they broke apart, Fraser said, ‘I thought I had once again chosen someone impossible to love, but you’re not impossible. You’re inevitable, and you do me a power of good.’

‘I’m glad.’

‘I just need to do one more thing,’ Fraser said.

The elf groaned. ‘What?’

‘It doesn’t have to be right now, Raimondo, but I need to go back to my world and make sure people know that I’ve decided to leave. Call it one last loose end.’

Raimondo was looking at him with great suspicion. ‘And if your duty sings to you while you’re there?’

‘I won’t listen,’ the ex‑Mountie declared. ‘I only hear your song now, dearheart.’ And to prove it, he didn’t mention that last loose end again for days…

♦

# Epilogue

♦

‘Sir, a rather strange letter arrived here this morning.’

The woman behind the desk took a moment to finish writing the very last sentence of the very latest draft of the RCMP’s policy on international diplomatic relations. Feeling a justifiable sense of achievement, she took her reading glasses off and looked up at her administrative assistant. ‘What is it, Constable?’

‘A letter of resignation from a Constable Benton Fraser. It’s dated almost thirty years ago, though the envelope was postmarked last week. I thought it was some kind of joke, until I looked the man up in the database – there _was_ a Benton Fraser, and he was posted to our Consulate in Chicago.’

There was no response or even reaction to this information.

The assistant continued, ‘He actually went missing ten days before the date of this letter, while investigating a gun-running case. There was evidence of corruption in the American Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, and also in the RCMP, sir – I suppose it was assumed that this Fraser character was somehow involved in that…’

‘No such thing was assumed,’ the woman said, in the quiet and commanding tone of hers that brooked no disagreement. ‘Constable Fraser was one of the finest officers I ever worked with. He was above reproach.’

A delicate pause, before the assistant said, ‘The letter is addressed to you, sir, care of the Chicago Consulate. They forwarded it here to Ottawa.’

Meg Thatcher looked at the piece of paper for a long moment before reaching out for it. Thirty years. As she reached, Thatcher couldn’t help but notice the inevitable wrinkles on the back of her hand, though she prided herself on the softness of the skin, the lack of other blemishes, the slimness of the wrist.

Yes, that was Fraser’s handwriting. _This is to advise of my resignation from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, effective from the above date, due to an unforeseen change in personal circumstances. I apologize for any inconvenience this situation may have caused_. Indeed – rather strange. Which was only to be expected from Fraser.

The administrative assistant was watching Thatcher with a puzzled glint in his eye.

Thatcher ran a hand back through her hair – though it had turned grey, her hair was a distinguished color and still luxuriously thick. She tilted her head back, and managed to look imperiously down her nose at her staff member despite the fact that she was still seated and he was standing. This was a maneuver she had perfected some decades ago.

‘That will be all, Constable.’ Thatcher added in her most severe tones, ‘Dismissed.’

♦

‘Happy now?’ Raimondo asked as he lowered the human to the verdant grass of else-where. The elf was pleased to note once again that Fraser’s sapphire eyes were more beautiful than the incredible blue of his home sky. ‘No more loose threads to weave in?’

‘Yes. I mean, no.’

‘Which is it, Benton Fraser?’

‘Yes, I’m happy,’ Fraser said with a smile. Though the elf let Fraser go once they’d settled, the human wound his arms round Raimondo’s waist and held him captive. ‘No, there are no more loose ends.’

‘Good.’

‘You know, everything has changed there. Time has passed in my world far quicker than here. The cost of postage stamps is quite extraordinary. Yet I haven’t aged at all.’

Ah, perhaps that explained Fraser’s pensiveness. The elf shrugged, and nonchalantly offered, ‘We can go visit every now and then, if you like. I was always curious about you silly creatures.’ He quirked a look at Fraser. ‘ _That’s_ what got me into this in the first place.’

‘Oh dear!’ Fraser commented vaguely. He was frowning over something, more than a little troubled. ‘I don’t think I want to go back,’ he confessed at last. ‘I made my decision to be with you. It was a good decision, Raimondo. I don’t want to go back.’

Raimondo began slowly divesting the human of his clothes – Fraser wouldn’t need them anymore, and the activity enabled the elf to hide a happy grin. ‘I’m glad,’ he murmured. ‘I’m very glad.’ He pressed a kiss to the sturdy chest he had just uncovered. ‘I was thinking, Benton Fraser.’

‘Oh dear…’ Fraser repeated with amusement.

‘I was thinking that you could go talk to the elders. If you really need to be _do_ ing something. There aren’t many rules, but I was thinking that you might help with them.’

Fraser was staring at him, in awe and gratitude. ‘I know it’s hurt you, Raimondo,’ the human whispered, ‘doing things, bearing witness, dealing with felons. If you don’t want me to get involved…’

‘It’s all right. Maybe I’ll even help sometimes. On one understanding,’ Raimondo added in the severest of tones.

‘What would that be?’

‘As soon as you grow your first grey hair, then you promise me that you retire and you spend the rest of your life simply _be_ ing.’

A smile enlivened those beautiful blue eyes beyond all belief. ‘I promise,’ said Fraser.

‘Good…’ Raimondo kissed a trail across those broad shoulders. Perhaps they would bathe together now, and wash away the dust and the cares of the dull-world. ‘So… _be_ with me, Benton Fraser… Be happy, and _be_ with me.’

♦


End file.
